Today, I’m going to talk about being lazy, because, well, I definitely am. I’m not going to pretend I’m the most hardworking person in the world. I’m pretty lazy, actually. But I wouldn’t say I’m the laziest person either. There are definitely people who are lazier than me, so at least I have that going for me. The problem with being lazy is that you can’t just wake up one morning and say, “You know what? I’m not going to be lazy anymore.” That’s not how it works. You actually have to do stuff. And doing stuff requires effort. And effort, unfortunately, is a whole lot of work. I’m not saying working hard is bad. I understand why people do it, and I know it helps you improve. But do I personally feel like putting in all that effort every single day? Absolutely not. No cap.
I mean, think about it. Life would be so much easier if you could just not do the work and still have everything turn out perfectly. Unfortunately, that’s not how life works. If you don’t put in the work, things usually don’t go very well. I understand that perfectly. The problem is that understanding something and actually wanting to do it are two completely different things. Sometimes I know exactly what I’m supposed to do, but I just don’t have the energy or the motivation to do it. I sit there, stare at whatever I’m supposed to be working on, and feel completely bored. And honestly, that happens a lot more often than I’d like to admit.
School is probably the best example of this. Most of the time, I’m not exactly thrilled about doing schoolwork. Math is one of the few subjects that I find genuinely interesting, although even that depends on the day. I actually like my math teacher quite a lot. He’s serious, and I appreciate that. I don’t really like teachers who praise you for absolutely everything. You behave decently? “Great job!” You behave terribly? Somehow, still “Great job!” You do something completely unexpected? Another “Great job!” At that point, what does “great job” even mean anymore? I prefer teachers who actually mean what they say. If I do something well, tell me. If I don’t, tell me that too. I’d rather have a teacher who takes things seriously than someone who acts like everything I do is amazing.
As for the rest of my teachers, I wouldn’t say I dislike them. They’re nice enough, and I understand that no teacher can be perfect. But if I’m being completely honest, some of them are kind of mid. No offense. I know that’s probably not the nicest thing to say about your teachers, but this is my podcast, and I’m supposed to be honest here. I’m not saying they’re bad people or terrible teachers. I just don’t necessarily love every single class. There’s a difference between respecting someone and being incredibly excited about whatever they’re teaching. And I think that’s perfectly reasonable.
Now, let’s talk about math, because apparently I have a lot to say about math. Some people absolutely hate it. I mean, hate, hate, hate it. They act like math is the worst thing humanity has ever invented. I don’t really understand that. Sure, math can be boring. It can be annoying, complicated, and sometimes completely ridiculous. But it can also be interesting. It depends on what you’re doing, how difficult it is, and whether you actually understand it. I wouldn’t call math the greatest subject in the universe, but I also wouldn’t call it the worst. Most of the time, it’s pretty chill.
People at school sometimes tell me I’m talented at math, but I honestly don’t think I’m particularly talented. I’m not some mathematical genius who was born knowing how to solve everything. I just practice. That’s basically it. I’ve spent time learning the fundamentals, and when you understand the basics, a lot of things become easier. You don’t need to be the smartest kid in town or the smartest kid in school. You just need to understand what you’re doing and keep practicing. Of course, that sounds very simple when I say it like that. Actually sitting down and practicing is a completely different story, especially when you’re someone like me who would rather be doing almost anything else.
The thing about math is that it becomes a lot more enjoyable when it’s easy. I know that probably sounds obvious, but it’s true. When I understand what I’m doing, I can finish the work without feeling like my brain is being slowly destroyed. I can actually enjoy solving problems. But when math gets complicated, that’s when things start going downhill. Suddenly, there are all these steps, rules, formulas, and strange questions that seem designed specifically to make my life miserable. Math goes from being a pretty chill subject to something that feels like a full-time job. And I’m sorry, but I did not sign up for a full-time job at eleven years old.
There are mornings when I wake up and genuinely do not want to do math. Not even a little bit. I know I should practice, and I know practicing will make me better, but sometimes I just don’t feel like it. Math is all fun and games until you get into the complicated stuff. Then it becomes a completely different experience. I wouldn’t say I hate math, because I don’t. But I definitely don’t love-love it either. There’s a difference between enjoying something occasionally and wanting to spend your entire life doing it. I can appreciate math without wanting to solve equations every waking moment.
Sometimes math problems are so ridiculous that I wonder who actually writes them. You know those questions where someone named Ling Ling is walking up fifty-one stairs while Bing Bing throws something into the sky, and suddenly you have to calculate the radius of a circle using some completely random number? What is even happening? Why are these people doing these things? Why am I responsible for figuring it out? At that point, I’m not even thinking about the math anymore. I’m thinking about how badly I want to quit. There are definitely moments when I look at a problem and think, “I could be doing literally anything else right now. Anything.” But nope. Here I am, stuck with Ling Ling, Bing Bing, and whatever mathematical disaster they’ve created.
Still, I keep coming back to the same conclusion. If you’re going to have to do something anyway, you might as well try to enjoy it. I know that sounds like one of those motivational speeches adults give when they want you to stop complaining, but there’s actually some truth to it. You’re going to have to do the work whether you enjoy it or not. Complaining about it doesn’t make it disappear. Hating it doesn’t make it easier. So you might as well make an attempt to find something enjoyable about it. I’m not saying you have to pretend that every math problem is the most exciting thing in the world. That would be ridiculous. But at least try to make the experience less miserable.
Of course, I’m also very good at giving advice that I don’t always follow myself. I can sit here and tell everyone to enjoy their work, and then five minutes later I’ll be staring at my own homework wondering why I have to do any of this. Sometimes I even try to convince myself that I’m enjoying math when I’m clearly not. I’ll be sitting there thinking, “Wow, this is so interesting,” while another part of my brain is practically screaming for me to stop. At that point, I’m basically lying to myself. And honestly, that doesn’t help very much either. You can’t force yourself to love something just because you think you’re supposed to.
One thing I really miss about math is how simple it used to be. Back in elementary school, we had something called cookie calculations. That was math at its absolute peak. One cookie plus two cookies equals three cookies. And guess what? You actually got cookies! They were tiny, but who cares? They were still cookies. That was probably one of the greatest math units ever invented. You barely had to do anything complicated, you got the answers right, and then you got to eat something. That’s what I call a successful educational system. Whoever invented cookie math deserves some kind of award.
We also had a popsicle unit, which was another masterpiece. If you did well, you got popsicles. Amazing. Absolutely amazing. Why did we ever stop doing that? I understand that math has to get harder as you get older, but does that mean the cookies and popsicles have to disappear? Why can’t we solve complicated equations and still get a cookie afterward? That would make the whole experience so much better. Instead, now we have geometry and all these other complicated things that I can barely pronounce sometimes. We used to have cookies. Now we have formulas. I’m not saying education has gone downhill, but you can probably see why I miss the old days.
Actually, I think the problem is that math has become a chore. It used to feel like something you could play around with. Now it feels like something you have to complete, get graded on, and move on from. There’s a right answer and a wrong answer, and sometimes it feels like that’s the entire experience. You solve the problem, the teacher checks it, and that’s it. With art, things are different. There’s more room for interpretation. You can make something interesting, strange, or completely unexpected, and it might still work. Math doesn’t usually give you that kind of freedom. If your answer is wrong, it’s wrong. You can’t just explain that your equation represents your personal artistic vision.
Speaking of projects, I recently had an idea involving Roman soldiers and LEGO. I wanted to create a Roman battle formation with something like fifty troops. Imagine a whole Roman army lined up in formation, with armor, weapons, and everything arranged perfectly. It would have been pretty awesome. Unfortunately, there was one very serious problem: money. LEGO is expensive. Really expensive. And when we started figuring out how much the project would cost, it became obvious that the school was probably not going to pay for it. Apparently, spending twenty-nine dollars on LEGO was already too much to ask. I mean, I understand. Schools have budgets. But still, come on. It’s a Roman army!
What made the whole situation even more interesting was that I found some old LEGO sets in a bin, including vintage Star Wars pieces. I’m talking about things like Clone Trooper-related sets that could actually be worth money. The moment I saw them, I started thinking about the possibilities. Why not sell some of the old sets and use the money for our Roman army project? That seemed like a perfectly reasonable business strategy to me. We have valuable stuff sitting around, we need money, and there are people who might want to buy it. Problem solved, right?
Well, apparently not. My teacher was absolutely not interested in selling any of it. She basically told me, “This is my stuff. You’re not selling it.” And just like that, my brilliant business plan was destroyed. I mean, we could have been making the big bucks! The huge bucks! We could have been running an entire LEGO economy. But nope. The answer was no. I understand why she didn’t want to sell her things, but I still think it was worth considering. Sometimes you have to be willing to let go of old stuff if you want to fund something new.
Then again, I do understand the sentimental side of it. Those LEGO sets might remind her of students she taught years ago or projects that meant something to her. Maybe they’re not just pieces of plastic to her. Maybe they’re memories. And I can respect that. I wouldn’t necessarily want someone selling my favorite childhood things either. But from a purely financial perspective, I still think my plan had potential. I guess this is one of those situations where business logic and emotional attachment do not get along very well.
The Roman army project also reminded me of something else about math. Roman battle formations had to be organized carefully. If everyone was lined up correctly, the formation could be incredibly strong. But if the soldiers started moving out of position, things could fall apart. Even a small mistake could create a weakness. Math sometimes feels the same way. Everything has to line up properly. One little mistake, one number in the wrong place, and suddenly the entire answer is wrong. It’s kind of annoying, actually. I wish math were a little more forgiving, but apparently numbers do not care about your feelings.
Another thing about school is that people are always trying to make everything fun. Sometimes it works, and sometimes it really doesn’t. I remember doing a 3D modeling activity in language arts using an app that honestly looked like it was designed for little kids. I mean, really little kids. But you know what? I actually enjoyed it. It was simple, it was creative, and I got to relax a little. Sometimes you don’t need something incredibly advanced to have fun. You just need an activity that lets you do something different instead of sitting there answering questions all day.
I think that’s one of the biggest problems with schoolwork. When you have to do the same kind of thing over and over again, even something interesting can become boring. It doesn’t necessarily mean the subject itself is terrible. It just means you’re tired of doing it. And when people try too hard to convince you that something is fun, it can make the whole experience even more annoying. I’d rather someone admit that an activity might be boring but still important than pretend it’s the greatest thing ever invented. At least then we’re being honest with each other.
There’s also the whole issue of behavior in class. I know someone at school who is actually a pretty nice person, but he doesn’t always behave very well. I’m not going to pretend he’s a terrible person, because he isn’t. He can be funny, and I’ve spent time with him outside school. But in class, he sometimes makes strange noises, gets distracted, and doesn’t seem particularly interested in behaving. The problem is that you’re not the one grading yourself. You can think you deserve an A-plus all day long, but that doesn’t mean your teacher is going to agree. If you don’t even attempt to participate or behave reasonably, you might end up pretty cooked. Academically cooked, I mean.
I’m not saying everyone has to be the perfect student. That would be impossible, and honestly, probably pretty boring. But I do think you should at least make an effort. You don’t have to answer every question or act like the teacher’s biggest fan. Just pay attention, do your work, and try not to make everyone else’s life harder. That seems like a pretty reasonable expectation. And if you want to get decent grades, you probably shouldn’t spend the entire class doing absolutely nothing.
One thing I’ve learned is that teachers have expectations, and those expectations can be surprisingly important. If a teacher thinks you’re responsible and hardworking, you want to maintain that impression. But you also don’t want expectations to become so high that you feel like you have to be perfect all the time. That would be exhausting. On the other hand, if expectations become incredibly low, getting them back up can be difficult. Imagine reaching the point where your teacher congratulates you just for saying hello. “Wow, great job! You spoke today!” That’s probably not where you want to be.
I think the best approach is somewhere in the middle. Be a decent student. Participate, focus, and do your work, but don’t act like every single grade determines the future of humanity. Sometimes you’ll do well, and sometimes you won’t. Even people who are really good at math can have terrible days. Sometimes you study and still make mistakes. Sometimes you understand everything during practice and then completely forget it during a test. It happens. You just have to keep trying, even when it feels like your brain has decided to stop cooperating.
I’ve also discovered a strategy for getting more field trips at school. If you want more field trips, participate in as many subjects and activities as you reasonably can. Different classes have different opportunities, so the more involved you are, the more chances you might have to go somewhere interesting. Of course, you still have to behave and actually participate. You can’t just sign up for everything and then sit there doing nothing. But if you make good choices, you might end up with a lot more interesting experiences. I call that strategic subject picking. You have to think ahead.
Something else I’ve been thinking about is how different subjects are graded. Math is usually pretty straightforward. You get something right or wrong, and that’s that. Maybe you get points for showing your work, but the answer still matters. Art is different. In visual arts, there isn’t always one perfect answer. You can make something unusual, and someone might actually appreciate it because it’s unusual. That’s pretty interesting to me. With math, you can’t just decide that two plus two equals five because you think five looks better. But with art, there’s a lot more room to experiment. I guess both subjects have their advantages, even if one of them occasionally makes me want to throw my pencil across the room.
The more I think about it, the more I realize that a lot of school is just learning how to deal with things you don’t particularly want to do. You’re not always going to be interested. You’re not always going to feel motivated. Sometimes you’ll be tired, bored, or completely fed up with whatever is happening. But you still have responsibilities. And I guess that’s part of growing up, even though I’m not particularly excited about that part.
Actually, growing up is something I’ve been thinking about a lot lately. When I was in elementary school, I thought I would never miss it. I thought it was boring, and I couldn’t wait to move on. I figured that once I left, I would never want to go back. But now that I’m in middle school, I’m starting to feel differently. Sometimes I genuinely wish I could go back and experience certain parts of elementary school again. Not necessarily because everything was amazing, but because things were simpler. I didn’t realize how much I would appreciate that until it was gone.
Back then, school felt easier in almost every possible way. There wasn’t as much pressure, and I didn’t have to think so much about grades, expectations, and whether I was doing enough. I could just go to school, do my work, and come home. Now everything feels more complicated. There are more assignments, more things to remember, and more responsibilities. Sometimes I feel like I spend my entire day doing things I’m supposed to do, and by the time I finish, there’s barely any time left for things I actually want to do.
When I get home now, I usually have my regular work to finish, and once I’m done with that, boom, the day is practically over. I don’t have nearly as much free time as I used to. And that’s pretty annoying, because I’m still a kid. I’m not ninety years old. I’m not even close. I’m only in middle school, and somehow I’m already talking about how much easier life used to be. That’s kind of ridiculous when you think about it. Imagine being eleven years old and already feeling nostalgic about the good old days.
The strange thing is that getting older seems to give you both more freedom and less freedom at the same time. Eventually, when you become an adult, you probably get to make a lot more decisions for yourself. But before that happens, there’s this weird period where you have more responsibilities without necessarily having more control. You have to do harder work, manage more expectations, and spend more time doing things other people tell you to do. And you can’t exactly say, “No thanks, I’m skipping all of that today.” Well, you could say it, but I don’t think it would go very well.
Sometimes I wish I could go back and fix some of the mistakes I made in elementary school. There are things I could have done better, choices I could have made differently, and moments I probably didn’t appreciate enough. At the time, they didn’t seem important. But now I look back and realize that some of those little things actually mattered. I guess that’s what happens when you get older. You start understanding things that didn’t make sense before, but by the time you understand them, you can’t always go back and change them.
And honestly, that’s a little frustrating. I know I’m not old enough to make some grand speech about life. I’m eleven. I haven’t exactly experienced everything the world has to offer. But I’m starting to realize that time moves forward whether you want it to or not. You can complain about school, homework, and all the things you have to do, but eventually those things become memories too. Maybe one day I’ll even miss middle school. That sounds completely impossible right now, but then again, I used to think I would never miss elementary school either.
I also think about how difficult life might become when I’m older. Adults have to worry about jobs, money, and actually making a living. Finding a decent job seems pretty difficult nowadays, and everything seems expensive. I already had enough trouble trying to fund a LEGO Roman army. Imagine trying to pay for an actual house. That sounds like a whole different level of financial disaster. I’m definitely not looking forward to dealing with all of that. But I guess that’s another reason why learning things now matters, even when I don’t feel like doing the work.
At the same time, I don’t think life should just be about working hard and getting good grades. You have to enjoy things too. Otherwise, what’s the point? If you spend your entire life doing things you hate, you’re going to have a pretty miserable experience. Of course, you can’t enjoy everything. That’s impossible. I certainly don’t enjoy everything I do. In fact, there are probably days when I would happily skip ninety percent of my responsibilities if someone gave me the option. But since that option usually doesn’t exist, I might as well try to make the best of what I have.
That’s really the main thing I keep coming back to. If you have to do something, try to enjoy it. If you can’t enjoy it, at least try not to hate every second of it. And if you genuinely hate it, well, sometimes you still have to do it anyway. I know that sounds kind of depressing, but I think it’s also practical. You don’t have unlimited time, and you don’t get to repeat every day of your life. So why spend all of it being miserable about things you can’t change?
I guess that applies to cross country too. Cross country can be fun, but it can also feel like psychological murder. Yes, psychological murder. I know that sounds dramatic, but it’s a pretty cool phrase, and sometimes it honestly describes the experience. You’re running, you’re tired, your brain is telling you to stop, and somehow you’re supposed to keep going. It’s not exactly my idea of relaxing entertainment. But there are still moments when I enjoy it. I guess a lot of things in life are like that. They’re difficult while you’re doing them, but that doesn’t mean they’re completely terrible.
Another thing I’ve noticed is that people sometimes act like enjoying something means you have to love every single part of it. I don’t agree with that. I can enjoy math without loving every problem. I can like school without loving every class. I can appreciate a teacher without thinking they’re the greatest teacher in the history of education. And I can enjoy cross country without enjoying every single second of running. Things don’t have to be perfect to be worthwhile. Sometimes they’re just decent, and honestly, decent is fine.
I think people should also stop pretending that everything has to be incredibly exciting. Sometimes life is boring. Sometimes school is boring. Sometimes math is boring. And sometimes I’m just a lazy person who would rather sit around doing absolutely nothing. That doesn’t mean everything is terrible. It just means life isn’t always entertaining. You have to find ways to make it interesting yourself, whether that means creating a ridiculous Roman army out of LEGO, doing a 3D modeling project, or talking into a microphone for thirty-five minutes about how much you don’t want to do math.
Speaking of thirty-five minutes, this is probably one of the longest podcast episodes I’ve ever recorded. And you know what? I actually like doing longer episodes. When I have more time, I can just talk, explore whatever comes into my head, and see where the conversation goes. I don’t have to stick to one perfect topic or make everything sound incredibly organized. Sometimes I start talking about being lazy, then somehow end up discussing Roman soldiers, vintage Star Wars LEGO, cookies, teachers, psychological murder, and the meaning of life. I don’t even know how that happens. But apparently, that’s how my brain works.
And honestly, I think that’s part of the fun. These episodes are about my personal experiences and whatever I happen to be thinking about. They’re not supposed to be perfect speeches. I’m not trying to sound like some professional motivational speaker who has figured out every problem in the universe. I’m just talking. Sometimes I make a good point, sometimes I repeat myself, and sometimes I probably say something completely ridiculous. But at least it’s real.
Before I finish, I want to say one more thing, especially to anyone who’s still in elementary school. Enjoy it while you can. I know that probably sounds cheesy coming from someone who’s only in middle school, but I actually mean it. You might think elementary school is boring right now. You might be excited to get older and move on to bigger things. And that’s fine. I felt exactly the same way. But there’s a good chance that one day you’ll look back and realize that some of those ordinary days were actually pretty great.
I wish I had appreciated certain things more when I was younger. I wish I hadn’t spent so much time thinking about how boring everything was. And I definitely wish I could go back to the days when math involved cookies instead of complicated formulas. But I can’t. That’s just how time works. You move forward, things change, and eventually you realize that the stuff you once complained about might actually be something you miss.
So I guess my final advice is pretty simple. Try your best, but don’t expect yourself to be perfect. Do the work, even when you don’t feel like doing it. Don’t pretend to love something just because other people think you should. If you enjoy math, great. If you don’t, that’s fine too. Just don’t give up on something simply because it gets difficult. And most importantly, try to enjoy your life while you’re actually living it, because you probably won’t realize how much you appreciated certain moments until they’re already gone.
I know I started this whole episode by saying I’m lazy, and I still stand by that. I am lazy. I don’t always want to work hard, and I definitely don’t wake up every morning excited to solve complicated math problems. But I also know that if I want to get better at something, I have to put in the effort. So I guess I’m a lazy person who understands that being lazy doesn’t actually solve anything. Which is kind of annoying, because it means I still have to do the work.
Anyway, that’s probably enough thinking for one day. I’ve somehow spent more than thirty-five minutes talking about being lazy, which is a pretty impressive amount of effort for someone who claims he doesn’t like putting in effort. Maybe I’m not quite as lazy as I think.
Or maybe talking is just easier than doing math.
Either way, enjoy your life, try not to hate your homework too much, and if anyone ever brings back cookie math, please let me know.
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